


The Picture of Natalya Rostova

by thephantomrunner



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Dorian Gray Fusion, Angst, F/F, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 11:33:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18468106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thephantomrunner/pseuds/thephantomrunner
Summary: Sonya’s stomach twisted at the question. She knew all about Helene Bezukhova and she knew that Marya did her best to keep her away from Natasha. The first word that came to mind was wild. She was wild. If she hadn’t know any better she would have guessed that Marya was drinking tea and Helene was drinking something else, something stronger. She was wild.~or~The Great Comet! Dorian Gray Au nobody asked for





	The Picture of Natalya Rostova

**Author's Note:**

> I found this saved in my google docs from two years ago and I got really excited because I think it would be fun to continue it!
> 
> I also just want to clarify that Natasha is of age in this fic- but there are really no romantic pairings. 
> 
> Please let me know if you would read if I continued this! <3
> 
> Enjoy! :)

‘She is so beautiful’ she thought as her wooden brush ran through the chocolate brown paint. She carefully swirled the paint coated bristles on the stark white canvas, staining another portion of it brown. 

“Up,” she muttered softly as Natasha head slowly started to drop. Natasha suppressed a yawn, “I’m sorry Sonya! You kept me up all night working on this. Have you finished yet?” 

“Shhhh,” Sonya instructed with an understanding smile “If you had kept still like I’d asked you to, we would have been done a long time ago” 

“That’s because I was bored! How am I supposed to sit still when-” 

“Hush! You’re moving your face, I need to get the expression right.” Natasha pouted as Sonya cut her off. Sonya glared at her in return and Natashas expression quickly became neutral again; Sonya rarely frowned- when she did, it scared the devil out of Natasha. 

Just as quickly as the glare came to Sonya’s face, it disappeared and was replaced with warm smile. “I want this painting to capture as much of your beauty as I can. You really are so beautiful, Natasha” 

Natasha blushed and Sonya dipped her slender paintbrush in the light pink paint. She skillfully blended the color with the chocolate brown making up Natashas cheek. 

Natasha smiled as she whispered “I love you Sonya,” 

Sonya grinned up at the painting she had made, remembering the day when Natasha had spoken those words. Where they sat in Sonya’s painting room as she skillfully drew her younger cousin. 

“It is a lovely painting,” Sonya cringed as a voice said behind her. The voice was raspy and sickly sounding from years of smoking and drinking.

“...Thank you, Countess. I tried my best” Sonya didn’t turn around; she didn’t have to. She already knew who it was. She had given the painting to, Marya Dmitrievna Akrosimova who had hung it up in her hallway. The love she had for her goddaughter was astounding and whenever she was with the two, Sonya always had felt less than Natasha. So for her birthday, to get in her grace’s, Sonya had spent hours of days working on this painting. And she was right; Marya Dmitrievna had loved it, but she hadn’t seemed to move into the other woman’s good grace’s. 

“I can tell. I believe that this is your best work,” Helene’s voice broke her out of her thought. She and Marya Dmitrievna had the strangest relationship. It was built off of discontent, dislike and on Helene’s part, opportunity. They were… old friends, if you will. 

Marya had done everything in her power to keep Helene away from either one of the children who resided with her while they were in Moscow. The last thing she wanted was for either of them to be corrupted by their ways. Sonya had told Marya that she would be out in town with Natasha, however Natasha had gotten caught up with the attractive young man that she had been talking to; Andrei Bolkonsky. His sister had not been with him that day so Sonya had decided to head home. She had not, however, planed to see Countess Helene Kuragina Bezukhova sitting in the drawing room, having tea with Marya. 

“Who might this enchanting young woman be?” Helene said, raising her fingers and running them across her lips. She wondered if they were as soft as they looked. Sonya’s stomach twisted at the question. She knew all about Helene Bezukhova and she knew that Marya did her best to keep her away from Natasha. The first word that comes to mind was wild. She was wild. If she hadn’t know any better she would have guessed that Marya was drinking tea and Helene was drinking something else, something stronger. She was wild. She and her brother Anatole would hold parties every night at the other man’s estate. They were wild. They were both married, but both had it in their minds that anything that had two legs and an opening somewhere, anywhere really, belonged to them. 

Sonya spoke softly, as her eyes followed Helenes long slender fingers on the painting. “She… she’s my best friend” 

“She is very beautiful. So young, so charming. Charmante,” Helene smirked, playing with the small loop of double pearls around her neck.

“Natasha is very charming. And she is very beautiful. My painting does not do her beauty justice,” Sonya smiled softly, looking into the wide, innocent eyes that belonged to the painting of her cousin and closest friend. 

“I would love to meet her,” Helene’s light pink lips curled into a smile. Helene was very beautiful. Her skin was a very pale brown, almost the color of coffee with cream. Her curly snady hair was pinned to the top of her head in a somewhat messy updo, garnished with a single green accent barrette. Her eyes were small and shifty, lined with long, thick dark brown lashes. They were a light amber color, lacking the mirth that one her age should have. Her nose was small and round, and her lips were painted a light pink as they curled up into a smirk. This smirk revealed none of her teeth but Sonya knew that if they did, they would be perfect white pearls. There were only a few lines around her mouth, signs of premature aging due to the life she was leading. 

“She is an amazing person. Very sweet, very innocent.” If she had anything to do with it, Helene would never meet Natasha. 

Unfortunately for her, as if the gods were planing against her, the door clicked open and the room was filled with a soft humming.

Sonya could feel her heart beating in her chest. Of course Natasha would walk in just as The Countess was leaving. She heard Natasha’s slippers padding against the floor as she walked further into the house.

“Sonya,” she smiled sweetly, running closer and embracing her in a warm hug. She turned, still smiling, and bowed her head sweetly to The Countess. 

Helene took in her features. She was of average height and her body looked like it was just beginning to develop; she was very slender. Her round face, her thick black hair tied on top of her head and her lips. The feature that entranced her in the painting. So soft looking, with an innocent pout always in place. 

Helene grabbed her chin delicately in her hand forcing her to look at her. Her eyes were wide and full of adventure and excitement. Sonya’s painting had been an exact replica of the young girl, but seeing her in real-life, touching her skin, she radiated youth. 

“You must be Natasha. My dear, You are very lovely.” Helene said, Natasha’s face still in her hand. She moved her face from side to side, examining her skin and her jaw. Sonya began to feel uncomfortable, but she refused to leave Natasha alone with Helene Bezukhova “You are very lucky to have your youth. You are so charming,” Helene finally removed her hands from her face but her eyes remained locked on Natasha’s lips. 

“Thank you,” It seems as though she was under a spell, her speech was robotic 

“This picture that your friend has drawn of you, it is very lovely.” she gestured to the picture behind her

Natasha blushed and smiled widely. “Sonya is an amazing artist. She just has seemed to have forgotten and removed all of my imperfections from the painting,” 

“What imperfections? Ma cherie, I cannot see any,” 

Natasha smiled sorrowfully, “I wish I could look like Sonya’s beautiful painting.” 

Helene moved closer to Natasha, viewing the painting at the same angle the younger girl was. “You already look like the painting. It is a mirror image. The real shame will be when you get older; you will no longer look like your painting. It will be a constant reminder of your lost youth.” 

Nastasha eyes widened and her lips suddenly pouted as if she realized, that aging was a thing that every human being went through. Sonya felt her heart clench and was about to open her mouth to comfort her friend, but Helene had moved even close to her. She began to stroke her cheek lightly. The distress was evident on Natasha’s face, but not because of Helene’s touch. Before she could say anything, Marya bustled back into thr room. The horror that was painted on her face was almost comical when she saw Helene’s hand resting on Natasha’s cheek. Her red lips fell open, but no sound came out of her mouth. 

As if remembering who she was, she snapped her lips shut, clearing her throat sharply. Helene’s smile deepened deviously and she slowly slid her hand off of Natasha’s cheek, down to her shoulder, resting it on her waist for a breif moment. The gesture was fast, though to Sonya it felt like it lasted for milleniums. 

The light in Natasha’s eyes returned when she saw Marya, who’s expression softened in turn. Natasha lept to pull her into a hug and Marya pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

“Countess Bezukhova was leaving,” She said sharply, her green orbs prodding into Helene’s face. Helene rolled her eyes, but moved towards the door nonetheless. Marya gestured for Sonya to follow, as if she was one of their maids. Sonya only nodded her head in submission and went to fetch her coat. 

“Let’s get you some tea, dear,” Marya said warmly to Natasha, nodding her head in goodbye to Helene. 

“Goodbye, dear Marya. I’ll be speaking with you later. It’s been a pleasure, Natasha.” Sonya handed Helene her green riding cape timidly, but Helene’s eyes didn’t break from Natasha’s face. 

“Charmante,” she muttered again, her lips tugged into a smile. “We’ll be meeting again” and with that, the door closed lightly behind her. 

Sonya was pale, having hated every second of Natasha’s encounter with Helene. She wasn’t as concerned as she should have been; she had faith that Marya would never let Natasha see Helene again. 

“That’s a women one should stay far away from,” she heard Marya informed Natasha. Her tone was warning, but mildly playful. 

It made Sonya shudder. 

It made her shudder because she knew that Marya was right. Helene was a women one should stay far away from. 

And she was ready to do everything in her power to keep Natasha away from her.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr [here](https://starchildrenofdustand-ashes.tumblr.com)


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